Concrete Jungle

The last time I was in New York City, I rode in a van with some my basketball teammates to see the New York Liberty play at Madison Square Garden.  I don’t remember much from that night.  I do remember, though, after the game my hands were shaking because I was so excited to get the autographs of these athletic women that I admired so much at the time.  Needless to say, I no longer play basketball, but I will be forever grateful to Mrs. Shannon for allowing me to have such a neat experience.

I feel I should note that this trip was pre-9/11.  And even though I should, I don’t really consider the basketball game my first trip to NYC.  We drove to Madison Square Garden from the Poconos and immediately drove back after the game—no exploring the concrete jungle.  No pitstop for New York Style pizza, no subway.

But now, I’m heading back to the place where dreams are made of with my dear friend, Megan. 

We won’t be going to see the New York Liberty play (Megan would rather watch the Oscars); instead, play, like, the noun  is on our hitlist—Death of a Salesman with Philip Seymour Hoffman.  Also on the list: a piano bar, one of the dives from Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives, the Ground Zero memorial, and a Monday morning taping of The Today Show. 

Let’s hear it for New York and also Megan’s friends who are letting us stay with them in Brooklyn.  By the way, this is a picture at the stop where the J train and Z train meet.  Bet you can't guess who named himself after this place.  Elizabeth, who you will hear more about later, pointed out this pop culture fact during our short stay at the Marcy Avenue stop--Shawn Carter's old stomping grounds.  That's a hint......if you didn't guess correctly already.